


The Sweet Science

by writetherest



Category: The Devil Wears Prada
Genre: F/F, guest appearances by characters from other fandoms, ladies boxing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-12
Updated: 2013-08-12
Packaged: 2017-12-23 06:33:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,330
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/923129
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/writetherest/pseuds/writetherest
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>It was only as she passed the ring and the woman moved just so that the light caught on her hair that Andy stopped dead in her tracks. The light caught on silver hair, hair that Andy would know anywhere - even if it was in a boxing gym.</i>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Sweet Science

**Author's Note:**

> Written for shesgottaread for the Help Japan auction. The title is taken from a quote by Pierce Egan which has gone on to become a common description of the sport in boxing circles.

Sweat dripped down Andy's face and neck and she had to blink rapidly to clear it out of her eyes so that she could see. Her pulse was racing as she shifted back and forth, maneuvering away from the punches being thrown at her while trying to successfully land some of her own.

The blonde across from her wasn't giving an inch away as she repeatedly swung and jabbed at Andy, trying to hit any area of her stomach, chest, or face that was unprotected. There was a cold glint in her eye and Andy knew that the only way she was getting out of this fight was with one of their bodies laying on the mat and the other standing victorious above it. Andy was determined that she would be the one standing victorious.

With a quick step to the left and a half spin, she managed to connect a blow to the blonde's shoulder, knocking her slightly off kilter and making her falter for just long enough for Andy to land a second blow to her cheek. The blonde didn't go down, however, and instead redoubled her efforts, connecting with Andy's gut hard enough to make her lose her breath.

She refused to lose her footing though and struck back, a rather reckless punch that the blonde ducked easily and left her open to a hard punch square on the chin. She could taste blood in her mouth, but swallowed hard and continued fighting.

"Ding! Ding! Ding!" called a male voice, stepping into the middle of the fight. "Alright ladies, back to your corners."

Pulling her gloves off and spitting out her mouthpiece, Andy had to laugh when the blonde - Erica - retorted with an easy, "Who are you calling ladies?"

"Certainly not you two prize fighters." The man laughed. "I really thought you were going to hurt each other. Had to break things up."

"Us? Hurt each other? No way. Right, Sachs?"

"Right. We were only just getting started when you broke us up, Jimmy."

"Ridiculous, the pair a ya." Jimmy shook his head and left the ring.

"Not bad, Sachs." Erica told her as she came closer, sweat pouring down her own neck and face.

"Yeah, well, when I'm fighting you, I've gotta bring my A game." Andy laughed, using a towel to wipe the sweat from her face.

"I'm hitting the showers and then heading to work. You done for the day?"

"Yeah, filed my article this morning. Think I'll hang around a while and work with the bag. Relieve some more frustration."

"Don't hurt yourself," Erica called as she headed for the women's locker room.

Andy watched her go and chuckled before heading toward the punching back in the corner of the gym.

A year ago, Andy never would've thought she'd take up boxing, but here she was, sweating and aching and having the time of her life. It had started with a fluff piece she'd been assigned when she was still lowman on the Mirror totem pole. The rising popularity of women's boxing thanks to exposure from movies like Million Dollar Baby and fighters like Laila Ali had led her editor to assigning her a piece on a small, little known gym where both women and men came to work out and train.

Andy had thrown herself into the story head first, meeting with Jimmy, the gym's owner, and asking for full access to the facilities and the patrons. The only way Jimmy had agreed was if Andy agreed to start training. The first week had been hell, but Andy had quickly come to love the sport and had written what she thought was a great piece on the gym. Her editor, however, had changed his mind and buried her story before it ever saw the light of day.

Andy's new found passion could not be buried though and her trips to the gym became more frequent. For the first few months, she went home feeling battered and bruised every night. When Jimmy finally cleared her for her first fight against another patron, she had ended up with a black eye that had taken a hell of a lot of concealer and explaining to cover up. But even that hadn't deterred her.

She learned quickly that while many, many people came through the gym doors proclaiming that they wanted to take up boxing, very few actually stayed. Jimmy was serious about the sport and about his gym being genuine. It wasn't for rich, bored housewives looking to hop on bandwagons. He pushed his clients hard and often broke them quickly.

The ones who remained were strong, hard workers who often had demanding jobs - policemen and women, firefighters, FBI agents. Andy often felt like the odd girl out - the silly little journalist trying to play with the big boys - but had channeled those feelings into her training, making her more of a fierce competitor than anyone ever imagined she could be.

She took a moment to adjust the wraps on her hands before putting her gloves back on and then started in on the bag. Andy had learned very quickly that working with any of the bags was a great way to get her frustrations out.

Unlike in a fight, when she had to focus solely on her opponent and her own moves, when she was working with the bag, Andy allowed her mind to drift and her frustrations to become unleashed. Punching and kicking the bag for fair got rid of her anger and worries better than anything else she'd found.

"Hey Andy, you up for sparring later this week?" A brunette called from across the gym.

Andy steadied the bag before turning to take in the woman that the voice belonged to. "Sure. I should be around most evenings. Just lemme know when."

"Great. I could use the practice. I'm hoping we'll break our case tomorrow, so maybe tomorrow night."

"See you then." Andy watched as the woman went back to her own workout before turning back to the bag.

"You know," Jimmy said, coming over to hold the bag for her, "you and Erica were really going strong tonight and it made me think, once again, about how great you'd be in an actual fight."

Andy stopped punching the bag and spit her mouthpiece out. "That was an actual fight, Jimmy." she teased.

"You know what I mean. You could get started in the amateur circuit. You'd be good, Sachs. Could make some good money."

"Jimmy, I'm a reporter, not a boxer. I don't have the time it takes to devote myself to training to be an actual fighter. And you know that." It was not the first time that they'd had this discussion.

"I'd train you myself. Coach you. You'd be great, Sachs."

"Jimmy, you've already got great fighters that you coach and train."

"Yeah, and you beat half of them during your little practice matches. Think about it, Sachs."

Andy took off her gloves and grabbed the water bottle that she'd set nearby. "You know I love working out here and training with you, Jimmy. And being able to have practice fights and sparring matches with everybody is great. But I'm not a real boxer. I know what this sport can do to you. I've got the cuts and bruises to prove it, not to mention all the other injuries I've had - like that lovely shiner - and I'm only doing this to work out. To try to actually go into fights, for money... I've seen how those play out. It's not like when Erica and I go at each other for ten or twenty minutes and then call it quits. It's real fighting, and I'm not going there."

"You know I had to ask."

She smiled at that. "And you know I had to say no." She leaned up and kissed his cheek. "Doesn't mean that I don't still love ya, Jimmy."

"Get outta here. Go write some article or something." He laughed at her.

She laughed the whole way to the showers.

**

A light sweat had broken out over Andy's skin as she ran along the path in Central Park with Lily, but it was nothing like when she was at the gym. She ran without thinking, her mind going over a million other things, and barely paying attention to the person beside her.

"Damn girl, slow down. We're not all marathon runners like you are." Lily gasped for breath as she slowed to a stop and moved off the path.

"Sorry Lils, I wasn't paying attention."

"Yeah, I could tell. How can you do that? I'm dying over here and you're just running like it's no big deal."

Andy grinned. "Sorry."

"I hate you. I really do."

"I'm honestly sorry," she tried again, sounding more sincere this time. "I know you're not a big fan of running. We could do something else. You could come to the gym with me."

Lily laughed. "Boxing? Me? Girl, are you forgetting about the time that you dragged me to that gym with you, telling me how great it was going to be? Because my whole body still aches in remembrance. You might like getting the crap kicked out of you, but I don't."

"It gets easier as you go along, Lily."

"Yeah, well, I'll take your word for it. Now come on, let's finish our run. Just, try to adjust your speed level, huh?"

"Sure thing." Andy grinned.

**

Saturday morning found Andy up bright and early and with nothing to do. She'd filed all her articles the night before and hadn't been assigned anything new yet. Normally weekends were her time to rest and relax and she indulged in sleeping in until at least 9. But for some reason, she was up by 6:30 and feeling wide awake.

She didn't often go to the gym on weekends, but decided to make an exception today. Working at Runway had been a 24/7 kind of job, so even though she'd technically been "off" on weekends, she'd never actually had the weekend off. When she started at The Mirror, she had made a concerted effort to take time off on the weekends to actually enjoy them, even if she had articles that she had to write for the weekend editions. Because of this, going to the gym had been relegated to the work week only.

But after her sparring match yesterday, in which the brunette police officer she'd been sparring with had her down on the mat within the first minute, Andy felt like she could use a little extra work out time. It wasn't like she was actually training to be a fighter, but her ego had been bruised by one sweep of the foot, and even though she had fought back and stayed on her feet for the rest of the match, she couldn't shake her frustration from hitting the mat in the first place.

Andy dressed quickly and headed out to the gym, hoping that with the early morning and cold chill in the air, it would be mostly empty. She wasn't ready to spar with anyone else, at least not yet.

What started out as a brisk walk soon turned into a jog as the cold nipped at her, and her body was already warm when she headed down the steps that led to the gym. She pulled out the tape and then tossed her gym bag in the empty locker room - a good sign that the place would be quiet and she'd have the space she craved - and headed for the gym.

As she walked, she started taping her left hand by rote. When she entered the gym, she was surprised to see Jimmy in the ring, working with a woman. She was tall and thin but Andy couldn't make out much of her features for the protective headgear she was wearing.

With a shrug, Andy headed for the punching bag, working on taping her right hand. It was only as she passed the ring and the woman moved just so that the light caught on her hair that Andy stopped dead in her tracks. The light caught on silver hair, hair that Andy would know anywhere - even if it was in a boxing gym.

"Miranda."

**

Her name had just barely been spoken aloud, but Miranda heard it. And more than her name, she heard the voice that spoke it - the voice that she hadn't heard in over two years.

It stunned her, to be hearing the voice at all again, let alone in this gym, and her concentration shifted from what she had been doing. She never even saw the punch that landed hard on her shoulder coming.

Her body was propelled backwards by the force of it and she had to step quickly to stop herself from falling. She knew she should consider herself lucky - Jimmy could've easily given her a direct hit to the face.

"Hey, Sachs, what're you doin' here?" Jimmy asked, his attention apparently also captivated by the younger woman.

Although she didn't look over, Miranda could feel that Andrea's gaze was locked on her.

"I - uh - I was just - um - " Andy forced herself to look away from Miranda and focus on Jimmy. She cleared her throat. "I was up early this morning and thought I should come in and do a little extra work."

"Because of how Kate took you down so easily when you sparred this week?" Jimmy teased.

"She didn't take me down easily,” Andy said, immediately on the defensive. “She just caught me off guard. It won't happen again."

With that, she headed for the punching bag, walking away without further acknowledging Miranda. It was, she knew, a death sentence, but she couldn't deal with the fact that Miranda was there, in her gym, boxing. Sweating. Miranda Priestly did not sweat.

Andy started in on the bag, forcing herself to concentrate on what she was doing and distracting herself from the fact that Miranda was a mere fifty feet away. Distraction was good. Distraction was something she could work with. Miranda Priestly being in the boxing ring with Jimmy was not.

Miranda watched as the girl once again walked away without even acknowledging her presence and felt her blood begin to boil.

"Why did you not tell me that Andrea Sachs was a client of yours?" Her voice was icy as she turned on Jimmy.

"You know Andy? Wow, small world." Jimmy didn't seem to be phased.

"How long has she been coming here?" Miranda demanded, watching as the reporter threw punch after punch at the bag, her muscles expanding and contracting as she moved.

"Andy? 'Bout two years. Started out wantin' ta write a story but her editor nixed it. Kept coming back though. She's real good."

"Why have I never seen her before now?" How was it that she herself had been coming to this gym for over a year but had never run into the girl before? Just dumb luck perhaps? Or did Andrea know that she was coming here and had been avoiding her like the scared little child she was?

"Andy doesn't usually come in on the weekends. She's here pretty much every night of her working week though. And you're usually only here on Saturday mornings. So that's why you two've probably never crossed paths." Jimmy looked at the usually unshakable woman who looked so very obviously shaken now. "So how do you two know each other?"

"Andrea worked for me once."

"Really?" Jimmy's eyebrows raised. "Never woulda guessed that."

"Yes, well." Miranda tore her eyes away from the woman who was still hitting the punching bag for fair and refocused on the man in front of her. "Shall we go back to our fight?"

"Yeah. Yeah."

Jimmy worked with Miranda some more, but noticed that she seemed distracted and was leaving herself vulnerable to some very easy punches.

"Hey, Sachs," he called, after once again holding back from hitting Miranda when she was making it so very easy for him, "get over here."

Andy turned to look at him and looked every bit the deer in the headlights as she did. "Wh-what?"

"Come over here. I wanna show Miranda something."

"Jimmy, I'm working with the bag. Can't you just -"

"No, no." Miranda spoke in her usual quiet tone. "Please, come show me Andrea." Her voice dripped with sarcasm.

Swallowing hard all the words that were threatening to break free from her throat, Andy came over and climbed in the ring.

"Fight me, Sachs." Jimmy instructed, taking on the stance that Miranda had had just a few minutes before.

Andy closed her eyes, did her best to clear her mind of everything - including the fact that Miranda Priestly was standing so close she could smell her Chanel Number 5 perfume (and how did she smell so good after she'd been working with Jimmy anyway?) - and took on her own stance.

She moved slowly back and forth, watching Jimmy, evaluating him, his posture, and what his first move was going to be. Andy very rarely threw the first punch. Instead, she liked to draw her opponents out, making them make the first move, so that she could understand better what she was dealing with.

But she could already tell that something was off with Jimmy in this fight. His stance was leaving him wide open to punches that she could easily land.

"What's your problem?" She asked as she allowed her arm to dart out and strike him hard in the side. "What are you standing like this for?"  
"Like what?" Miranda asked from behind, knowing full well that Jimmy was mirroring her own stance, and angry that Andy had managed to land a punch on him.

"Like he wants to lose." Andy retorted, angry with the break in her concentration, even as she landed two more quick punches to his unprotected areas.

"You think he will lose to you?"

Andy looked quickly over her shoulder. "I know he will."

Jimmy took the moment to try and hit her while she was distracted, but Andy quickly moved out of the way and used his weak stance and the fact that with his punch he'd left his face unprotected to sucker punch him right in the face. Jimmy went down hard.

With a wide smirk, Andy turned back to Miranda. "See?"

And with that, she climbed out of the ring and left the gym.

Jimmy rubbed his jaw as he stood and couldn't help but smirk. "That's my Andy."

"Your Andy?" Miranda's voice was cold.

Jimmy laughed. "She's too damn good. And refuses to admit it. I want her to start fighting in the amateur fights, but she won't."

"You believe she's good enough to win?"

"You should see her fight. She's better than good. And damn, she can hit hard when she wants to."

Miranda turned her glare on Jimmy. "My stance is really that bad?"

Jimmy just smirked. "I kinda let my guard down with Andy, because I forget how good she can be. But yeah... your stance could use some work. Normally it's tighter than it's been this morning. It seems like you're distracted or something."

Miranda huffed angrily at this and quickly went into her stance, doing everything in her power to make it tighter. They worked for another half an hour before Jimmy finally called it quits. Miranda's stance was looking much better and he had to attribute it to Andy's little demonstration, because after it, Miranda had been like a woman possessed by the need to improve. It was almost as though she was trying to prove Andy wrong, although there was really nothing to prove her wrong about. At least not in Jimmy's eyes.

As Miranda was climbing out of the ring with more grace than Jimmy had ever seen, he called out to her. "Andy usually spars with Kate on Tuesday nights after work. 'Round 6:30 or so. And she and Erica usually go a few rounds on Thursday nights. Same time, give or take."

Miranda kept walking, making no acknowledgement that she'd even heard him.

**

On Tuesday evening, Miranda found herself climbing into the town car at five minutes after six. Jimmy's words came back to her, and before she could stop herself, she heard her voice say "Take me to the gym, Roy".

**

She caught sight of Andrea almost instantly when she walked into the gym. She was not in the ring, but instead on one of the practice mats. Her hands were taped, but she was wearing no protective gear. Another tall, thin brunette was on the mat with her, and she seemed to be sizing Andrea up.

"Look all you want, Kate," she heard Andrea tease, "but you're still gonna see me standing on my feet."

"You sure about that, Andy?" Kate asked as she moved forward, into Andy's space. "Because I seem to recall you hitting the mat pretty hard last week."

"Oh, you mean like this?" Andy shot her foot out and caught Kate's leg, hooking and pulling until she lost her balance and hit the mat.

Kate looked up, her face a mixture of surprise and what could only be described as pride. "And the student becomes the teacher."

"Yeah, yeah, yeah. Now get up and let's spar."

For the next fifteen minutes, Miranda watched as the two of them moved around the mat, throwing punches and jabs, kicking and flipping, all in a fluid dance that had her mesmerized. She'd never sparred before and had never watched it either. But watching the two brunettes in action was truly like poetry in motion or a great ballet. There was a rhythm to it that captivated her.

Just when Andy and Kate decided to call it quits, shaking hands and wishing each other a good spar - there was no winner in this round - Miranda quickly slipped back out of the gym, determined not to be noticed.

**

Wednesday found Miranda replaying the sparring match between Andy and Kate in her head throughout the day. She could not seem to shake the images.

She cursed Andy and Kate and the gym and herself and vowed never to go there when Andrea Sachs was there again.

**

On Thursday evening, she sank into the car at six twenty. At six twenty one, as though in an out of body experience, she heard herself tell Roy to "take me to the gym".

**

Andrea and Erica were already fighting by the time she came into the gym. Jimmy was standing just outside the ring, watching them.

She thought it would be more difficult to pick Andrea out with the boxing gloves and protective head gear, but she found that she knew her former assistant's body well enough that she could clearly deduce which one of the bodies was Andrea's within five seconds.

Andy felt the air shift when Miranda walked into the room, just like she'd felt it on Tuesday evening, but once again she ignored it. If Miranda wanted to watch her, she couldn't exactly stop the woman. But she wouldn't let it affect her. She could not be weak.

Even though it wasn't a real fight and Andy considered Erica a friend, she knew that when they were in the ring, all bets were off. Boxing was to be taken seriously. If they wanted to goof around, they did so on the mats. But the ring was only for serious fighting.

Andy felt the adrenaline course through her as it always did when she started a fight. She'd fought Erica enough to have a basic understanding of the way she worked in the ring, which was at her advantage. But Erica was in a mood tonight and Andy knew that she couldn't expect anything - except the unexpected.

Andy stayed light on her toes, her stance tight, protecting herself while she tried to find Erica's weaknesses. Normally, she could pull Erica out of her stance with a few well placed jabs, but tonight the blonde was tense and tight, keeping everything close to the vest.

Andy landed a blow to the shoulder and then a quick one to the gut, but Erica retaliated with a swift uppercut right to Andy's jaw. It stung and Andy had to move back for a moment to blink the water out of her eyes. The tears had come naturally with the swift punch and they only served to anger Andy.

She shifted her weight and set about breaking Erica down with a series of fast jabs and slow punches that kept her off balance. She was landing blows and managing to avoid Erica's punches, all while staying strong on her feet. She tossed another punch which connected with Erica's cheek, but she wasn't quick enough to get back to her stance and once again, the glove connected with her face.

This time, Erica managed to hit her mouth. The mouth guard protected her teeth, but Andy felt the lip split open and tasted the blood as it began to ooze from the cut.

When Miranda saw the blood beginning to dribble down Andy's chin, something inside of her snapped. It was a visceral reaction and the only other time she could ever recall having one like it was when an older child had pushed Caroline down on the playground and made her cry. There was nothing maternal about this feeling though, only the same need to destroy whoever it was that had caused pain to someone she -- someone she -- what?

She certainly did not hold Andrea - who had been a disappointment; who had walked out on her - in the same regard that she held her children. And yet, Miranda wanted nothing more at that moment than to climb in the ring and throttle the blonde.

When Andy landed a strong punch that knocked the blonde to the ground, Miranda found herself wanting to applaud.

Before the blonde could get back up, a buzzer rang from by the ring and Andy peeled off her gloves and helped the blonde back to her feet.

"Shit, Andy, sorry about your lip. That's really bleeding." The blonde reached out, allowing the red blood to coat her finger, a look of almost relief on her face.

"It's fine," Andy assured as she spit her mouth guard - and more blood - out into her hand. "That was a great uppercut you got me with."

"Yeah, well, your left hook was pretty good, too. Sure you don't want to join the force? We could use a fighter like you."

"FBI's not really my style. I'll stick to where I am. Although, if you ever want to give me an exclusive about something..."

"I'll keep it in mind." Erica laughed. "I'm hitting the showers. Night, Sachs."

"Night."

Andy climbed out of the ring and her eyes landed on Miranda. She raised her eyebrows, but said nothing.

"Do you often get injured like that?" Miranda asked when she was close enough, deeming it appropriate to talk to her, now that Jimmy had walked away.

Andy blinked before answering. "Boxing is kind of a tough sport, in case you hadn't noticed, Miranda. A split lip isn't really anything to worry about."

"I have only ever worked with Jimmy, and while he is an excellent trainer, he has never hit me hard enough to cause injury."

Andy thought of that first black eye from her first fight and had to laugh. "No, Jimmy usually lets someone else do the roughing up."

"So you have been injured before?"

Again Andy laughed. "I've had black eyes, bruises everywhere, split lips, cuts on my cheek, a cracked rib once... and those are all still pretty minor compared to actual fighters."

"A cracked rib?" Miranda sounded appalled.

"I was sparring with the one of the guys. He hit me a little too hard and I went down on my chest. It healed up fine."

"You fight with men?"

Andy refrained from laughing this time, although just barely. "Yep. I mostly fight and spar with other women, but if there are guys around and they want to fight, I'm happy to take them up on it. Helps me improve when I fight a tougher opponent. Not that Erica and Kate aren't tough."

Miranda continued to look at Andrea, sizing her up. There was apparently a lot that she hadn't realized about boxing.

"I had assumed that only professional fighters would get hurt." Miranda finally admitted.

Andy offered her a smile that was genuine. "If you're just training with Jimmy, learning the basics of boxing, then the injury level isn't high. Especially if you're you, Miranda. Jimmy isn't stupid. He isn't going to let Miranda Priestly get injured in him gym, even if she is paying him to train her."

Miranda let out a huff at this. How dare Andrea imply that she was treated differently just because of her status?

"I'm not trying to be mean, Miranda. I'm just telling you a simple truth. You can ask Jimmy if you'd like. He's not going to rough you up the same way he would say... me."

"That's absurd."

Andy smirked. "Absurd, but true."

"Then you do it." Miranda challenged.

"Excuse me?"

"You think I cannot fight?"

"Miranda, I never said - "

"Then fight me. In the ring. As though I were any other opponent."

"Miranda, I'm not going to - "

"Saturday morning, 9 AM sharp. That's all." And with that, Miranda turned on her heel and walked away, leaving Andy to gape after her.

**

"Wait, she what?" Lily asked over a glass of cheap wine and cartons of Chinese that night at her apartment.

"She wants to fight with me. Like, full on, in the ring, fight me."

"Damn girl, I'd watch out. Sounds like the Dragon Lady is still holding a grudge from when you worked for her."

Andy shook her head as she deftly picked up some lo mein with her chopsticks. "No, I don't think it's from that. I mean, granted, I'm sure she's still pissed about that, but I think it's because I implied that Jimmy goes easy with her when he's training her."

"You did what? Do you have a death wish?"

"I don't know. I just... I wasn't trying to be mean. I was just stating a fact."

"Yeah, and I'm sure she took it oh so well."

Andy dropped her head into her hands with a groan. "What am I gonna do, Lily? I can't fight her!"

"Sure you can." Lily replied easily, stealing some of the lo mein that Andy had forgotten in her anguished state. "Just go there Saturday morning, get in the ring, land a few blows that will show her you mean business but won't actually hurt her, and then get out.Simple as that."

"Simple as that." Andy muttered. "Simple as that my ass."

**

On Saturday morning at 9:10, Andy stood in the ring facing Miranda. She couldn't believe what was about to happen.

A million girls would kill for this job.

Nigel's words kept ringing in her ears, but Andy couldn't help but think that a million girls might kill to be Miranda's assistant, but a _billion_ people would kill to be in her place right now. If they didn't actually want the opportunity to go a few rounds with Miranda, then they almost certainly wanted the opportunity to see someone else do it.

Andy also knew that she was at an unfair advantage, not only because she had more experience as a boxer, but because she could read Miranda so well. It was a skill that had saved her ass more than once on the job, and although she hadn't seen the woman in over two years, she could still anticipate what she was going to do.

Anticipating what your opponent's moves would be was a key to any good boxer's skill set, and Andy knew that that more than anything else could prove to be Miranda's downfall.

While Andy was sizing Miranda up, Miranda was doing the same with her. It was obvious that the woman standing in front of her was a far cry from the girl who had worked for her once. Andrea had grown up into a strong, capable woman. Miranda had never doubted that that would happen. But this woman before her, this Andrea, in the boxing gloves and head gear, was on a whole other plane than Miranda ever thought possible.

Even the fact that the woman had shown up at all was a bit of a surprise. Miranda knew Andrea wasn't one to back down from a challenge, but she also couldn't help but think that this was one challenge that Andrea wouldn't rise to. She was pleasantly surprised to see that she had been wrong.

"Alright, these are the ground rules," Andrea finally spoke, "the timer is set for 2 minutes. That'll be our one round. No hitting below the belt, gloves, head gear, and mouth guards must stay on the entire time."

"One round?" Miranda quirked an eyebrow. "Here I thought you'd like to go all ten rounds."

Andy let out a quick laugh. "One round is all you're gonna be able to handle, Miranda. Believe me."

"Alright, trash talkers," Jimmy said from outside the ring, "let's get ready to rumble." He hit the bell and started the timer for them.

At the sound of the bell, Miranda watched as Andrea seemed to morph before her eyes. No longer was she the former assistant turned journalist. Now she was a boxer, plain and simple. She watched as even Andrea's eyes changed, became harder and more focused, and for the first time, a tiny shot of fear ran up her spine, mixed with something else altogether.

She'd been looking for a fight, especially from Andrea, but now that she'd gotten it, well… maybe she wouldn't be able to handle this as well as she thought.

Andy shifted her weight, watching Miranda's every move. She could sense the hesitation in the woman and had half a mind to just let the clock run down with them staring at each other. But Miranda had wanted a fight and Miranda was going to get a fight.

With careful precision and control, Andy threw the first punch, grazing Miranda's shoulder with enough force to bring her into the fight, but not nearly enough to do any kind of damage.

When the blow landed on her shoulder, Miranda's brain snapped back to the fight that was to be taking place. Andrea had just thrown the first punch and landed it. How dare she? Inside her gloves, Miranda's fists clenched, and she thought of all the work she and Jimmy had done on her stance as she adjusted her body accordingly.

She kept her eyes focused on Andrea, looking for any area of weakness before she jabbed at her, tentatively.

Andy saw the tentative jab coming – Miranda was pulling her punches, still unsure about this whole thing – and quickly blocked it, while also giving her a nice jab to the stomach in return. She thought of Lily's words _land a few blows that will show her you mean business but won't actually hurt her, and then get out_ and nodded her head slowly.

Red flashed across Miranda's mind when Andrea blocked her jab and then managed to strike her again. Who did that little fool think she was? Miranda allowed the anger to take over and swung at Andrea's head. She suddenly wanted to watch the girl bleed again.

Andy moved quickly out of the line of Miranda's punch, surprised just how quickly she had allowed her anger to take over. She moved around Miranda, staying light on her feet and just out of punching range, while still getting a few light hits in here and there.

As the time wore down, Andy could tell that Miranda was getting angrier and angrier, and finally, when she could see the timer was down to its last five seconds, she moved into Miranda's space. Let no one say that she never did anything for Miranda.

Miranda's rage spurned her into action and with everything she had, she reeled back and punched Andrea hard in the face. The woman's body jerked backwards from the force of the blow and then, before Miranda could even process it, Andrea's own fist was connecting with her face.

Her vision went black for a minute and she felt herself falling backwards, stopped only by the ropes. When the bell rang, her eyes opened again, although her left eye wasn't opening the whole way yet, and took in the spot of blood that was forming on the mat. Andrea's blood.

"Jesus, Sachs!" Jimmy said as he jumped the ropes, holding a towel that he quickly stuck under Andrea's nose – the source of the bleeding. "Are you okay?"

Miranda watched through still slightly blurred vision as Andy shoved the towel away before spitting out her mouth piece and pulling off her head gear and gloves. Once her hands were free, she took the towel and, in a move that looked like it had been practiced more than once in her life, held it to her face as she pinched her nose and leaned forward with her head titled forward.

"Five minutes." She said to Jimmy, who seemed to understand as he hopped back over the ropes to set the timer, before climbing back in with another towel to clean up the mat.

Andy glanced over at her then and allowed an expletive to slip from between her lips.

"Fuck!" She hissed, although Miranda wasn't sure if it was from the pain or from seeing Miranda herself.

"You okay, Miranda?" Jimmy asked once the blood had been mopped up. "Looks like she got you pretty good."

His voice cut through the fog that she'd been in and she went through the motions of taking off her gloves and headgear and spitting out her mouthpiece. She allowed her hand to come up and could feel the swelling that had already occurred over her left eye. Andrea had gotten her good alright. Just as good as she'd gotten her.

The timer went off and Andrea stood straight, pulling the towel away from her face. "It still bleeding?" She asked Jimmy.

He came over and took her chin in his head, tilting her head back. "Nah, looks like you got it stopped. Some dried blood around it, and some swelling. You think it's broken?"

"I hope not." Andy sighed. "I don't think so, but I'll go have it checked just to be sure."

She looked over at Miranda who was still just standing against the ropes, looking at her. She could see the swelling from here and knew that Miranda was going to have a black eye.

_Shit! Shit! Shit!_

She wanted to say something, but couldn't think of a single thing to say. "Sorry for punching you in the face" just didn't sound like enough. And the truth was, although she was sorry, on some level it had been cathartic. She liked to think the same was true for Miranda.

But she wasn't going to find out, because Miranda turned and climbed out of the ring, leaving the gym without another word.

"Shit."

**

"Hey, Marcia." Lily teased on Sunday when Andy showed up for dinner. "Hope the swelling goes down before your big date with Doug."

"Shut up." Andy rolled her eyes. "I've heard enough of it from Doug, thank you very much."

Lily laughed. "I bet he's having a blast. Did he call you and tell you that he couldn't come to dinner tonight because 'something suddenly came up'?"

"I'm banning you two from ever watching TV Land again, I swear." Andy sighed, plopping down on the couch.

"Okay, okay, but seriously, how bad does Miranda look if you look like that?"

Andy let her head fall back on the couch. "Oh god, Lils, there's no way she doesn't have a black eye."

"You punched her that hard?" Lily's eyes were wide. "I thought we agreed – a few good hits and then done."

"We did. And I was following that plan – right up until the time I let her clock me."

"Wait. You _let_ her hit you?"

Andy shrugged. "I didn't think she'd hit me as hard as she did. She was just – I could tell she was pissed and I felt bad, because she hadn't landed a hit for the whole round and I figured I'd let her have her chance to hit me. Only she hit me way harder than I was expected and before I knew what was happening, blood was gushing from my nose and her eye was swelling shut."

"Damn girl, you sure know how to pick 'em."

"And then she just left, without saying a word. She's probably going to sue me for disfigurement or something."

Lily sank down on the couch next to her. "Eh, you never know. Maybe one day, you'll look back on all of this, and laugh."

Andy let her head fall on Lily's shoulder. "Doubtful."

**

By the time Andy made it home from work on Monday, she'd already had a bad enough day that she figured it couldn't really get any worse. Between those feelings and the two glasses of wine she practically chugged when she got home, she found herself dialing Miranda's private cell number.

It rang three times before Miranda answered.

"Hello."

"So," Andy drawled, trying to sound confident, "what is the typical form of apology for giving someone a black eye? Flowers? Candy? My head on a silver platter?"

It took a moment for Miranda to respond, but when she did, she sounded almost amused. "Mmm… that third option is sounding about right."

"God, Miranda, I really am so sorry. I wanted to tell you on Saturday but then you left and – I'm so, so sorry."

"Yes, well." Miranda sighed. "I suppose I deserved it after the way I hit you. Tell me, how is your nose? Am I going to have to pay for cosmetic surgery?"

"As long as I don't have to pay for yours, I think we're good. It's not broken, just really swollen, which Lily and Doug have been having a field day with." Andy's gut unclenched slowly at the almost friendly nature of the conversation.

"Oh?"

"They've stopped referring to me as anything but Marcia." Andy admitted as she filled up her wine again, this time taking smaller sips from it.

"Marcia?" Miranda sounded puzzled.

"You know – Marcia Brady. Oh, my nose!" Andy did her best imitation of the classic television moment – the one Doug and Lily had been trying to get her to do since they first saw her but she had steadfastly refused – to clue Miranda in.

"Ah, yes. I hadn't even thought of that. Did Douglas cancel dinner plans on you? If he did, I hear that's another fellow named Charlie that you might try."

Andy laughed out loud. "I kind of love that you know that," she announced before she realized what she said.

"Fashion is not the only thing I am aware of, Andrea." Miranda sounded like Miranda again, which was so not what Andy was going for.

"No – no, of course not. I didn't mean – I just meant –"

Miranda chuckled over the phone and Andy thought she might pass out. "Are you on pain medication at the moment perhaps?"

"Does wine count as pain medication? Because if it does, then yep." And why had she just admitted that?

"Ah. I see. Perhaps I should go pick up some of that particular brand of pain medication after the day I've had."

"Oh god. Was it horrible? What did everyone say? Have I mentioned that I'm sorry?"

"No one said anything, of course." And Miranda sounded pretty pleased as she admitted this.

"Because no one asks Miranda anything." Andy mumbled, imaging what it must've been like in the halls of Runway that day. "Oh god, I bet Em was busting a gasket, wanting to know what had happened."

"She did look rather pained when she first saw me this morning, but I gave her enough to do that she didn't have time even think about it, let alone ask about it."

"Poor Em," Andy said, but she was laughing. "Honestly though, how bad is it? Is it going to make the papers , because if it is…"

"Andrea," Miranda sighed with that tone of voice that said Andy was just being stupid, like when she couldn't see the difference between two belts that were the same color, "My physicians are world class and my makeup is top of the line. A minimal amount of the bruising was visible, but only to those close enough to see my face with their own eyes, not through their lenses. It will not be printed, and if it is, Leslie is already on standby."

Andy's stomach dropped as she thought of the ways Page Six could spin the black eye. "I really am sorry."

"If you apologize one more time, I'm going to punch you in the face again." Miranda hissed, and Andy believed her.

"I knew fighting you was a bad idea." Andy sighed quietly.

"You think it was a bad idea?"

"Miranda, you have a black eye and I have a swollen nose. I'd say it didn't turn out well for either of us. Which is natural, given that you should never box while you're angry."

"You think that I was angry?"

"Miranda, it was my nose that took the brunt of your anger. I'd definitely say you were angry." Andy rolled her eyes. In the morning, she was sure she'd regret talking to Miranda like that, but for now, the wine had her feeling pretty good.

"I would think that fighting while angry would be the ideal time to fight."

"Ah, fighting perhaps, but boxing, no."

"And there's a difference?" Miranda sounded genuinely curious.

"To most people, no. To boxers, yes. Don't get me wrong, boxing is fighting, but it's also a sport. A sport that takes total concentration. To do it well, you need to keep your emotions out of it – or at least learn how to channel them. It's about skill, about wearing down an opponent, about staying logical. When you're boxing, you should always be focused and shouldn't allow emotion of any kind to come in to play, but especially not anger. Anger makes you do really stupid things in the ring, like throw punches that you shouldn't throw or leave yourself open to hard hits."

"Like I did."

"Like lots of boxers do. Like I did at the beginning. Everyone does it, but the trick is to learn to control it. What I like to do, when I'm angry, is take it out on the bag. Let it all come out, throw those stupid punches to get rid of most of it. And then I keep a little bit for in the ring – enough that I can control it, that I can use it."

"I was angry in the ring." Miranda admitted.

"I know you were. It was written all over your face. You were pursing your lips."

"And yet, you let me hit you."

"What?" Andy was shocked that Miranda knew she'd taken the hit purposely.

"Andrea, I am not stupid. You had managed to completely avoid me for the entire round, and then in the last few seconds, you got in close enough range for me to land a hit? You're a far better boxer than that."

Andy was thankful they were only talking on the phone and Miranda couldn't see the blush that colored her face at the praise. "I didn't expect you to hit that hard – or for me to hit you back. It was a total knee-jerk reaction. Or I guess, in this case, a nose-jerk reaction."

And Miranda laughed. Miranda Priestly laughed at her lame joke. She was sure she was drunk. "Why did you allow me to hit you, Andrea?"

Andy thought about her response for a while before she finally put voice to it. "Catharsis, I guess. And penance. I thought you needed it – the chance to hit me, to make me pay for what I'd done, for the way I'd left. And, I felt like, in a lot of ways, I deserved it for the way I left. It was childish. It was what I needed to do, but the way I went about it – well, I guess I sort of sucker punched you in Paris, so I was giving you the opportunity to do the same."

"I won't lie to you, Andrea. I think I did need that, as you said. I don't think I realized just how angry at you I was until my glove was connecting with your face. But I also realized, when you struck me, that it wasn't just that I was angry with you. It's that I –" and here, Miranda paused, as though unsure of whether she wanted to continue with the thought or not. Andy waited with baited breath.

"I've missed you." The words came out in a rush, or as much of a rush as Miranda spoke in. Silence reigned, until Miranda added on to her statement. "Not just as an assistant, but, as a person in my life."

"God help me," Andy's voice came over the phone, "but I've missed you too, Miranda."

"Perhaps we could box again sometime, now that we've gotten our anger out of the way. And then we could have a meal afterwards."

Andy was half certain that this whole conversation was a drunken dream, but she nodded anyway. "I'd like that."

"Good. I will see you around the gym, I'm sure."

"I, um, yeah. Sure."

"Goodbye, Andrea."

"Goodbye, Miranda."

After she hung up the phone, Andy stared it for a few minutes, before she dialed another number. "Lily? You won't believe what just happened!"  



End file.
